<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:08:30.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sabaw Fresh from the Pot</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-2113146000751713037</id><published>2010-12-20T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T07:19:18.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in reverse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I saw you stand out in a crowd. I thought - you're different. I met you. I came to know you. We shared songs and a few moments. A few nights spent in a house outside school - I was magnetized by you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;It wasn't abrupt you see, it took over my being slowly by the days. You and a friend of mine had gotten together and I was happy for you. Genuinely happy for two of my friends to be happy - that's what I felt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Later on you were already breaking it off, and as a veritable friend, I was there. I was a friend who got your back when challenges and pains faced you. I would find time for you when you needed someone to lean on, or when you simply needed company - even if I had no time for myself. There we were, two people spending time with each other as friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;That's what it meant for me, nothing more, nothing less. I could not put more meaning to it because he was my friend and you had to end things with him. I understood. I helped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;More time were spent with each other, until a time spent apart. For a few days, a huge part missing in my life was you. I confessed, and so did you - we had to tell each other, we wanted to be together. How together? I couldn't tell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;When time came again when we could be together, we weren't. I was holding back. I was not sure how you felt, but maybe, just maybe, you were feeling the same way. We came upon a realization that another friend has long been in the picture. I failed to handle that. He was a close friend and I would tell him about us, but I couldn't - I'd rather be taken out of the picture than take someone out of it. But he did so himself voluntarily. It hurt not just him, but me too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I held to your words that it was how things should be. I was convinced his backing off was right. I couldn't blame you for that, words were there to prove it. Nonetheless, yet again I was holding back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I was holding back because of many reasons, but to put all those reasons into one word, "complicated" couldn't be more apt. I would read you as someone who's not ready for anything serious, and I was someone who was not ready for someone who's not ready. No less important was the situation we were in, considering our friends'. No less important too, was the issue of publicity. Problems have been caught around us, but I was hopeful, hanging on to the vivid possibility of an "us", but always holding back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;One hazy night though, it seemed as if we had ignored all the problems and all that mattered was each other. I knew in myself it was quite unreal, but it was close to what I honestly wanted. How could I blame us for trying, when we were just trying something I wish I truly had, something I wish we truly shared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Upon one awakening however, we had no option but to bounce back to reality. The problematic became even more problematic. We were just warming up, eventually, it was already too hot to handle so you had to let go of it in an instant - you did. I had been shut off and it was not easy for me. A lot of questions arose and none were given any clear answers. I had to result to means, and it made things worse for me - it made me look stupid, I was irrational, I admit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I tried to decode it as some little thing gone really wrong, and I was just overreacting. I really don't know. The lack of answers had me thinking, and I simply could not blame myself. Painful as it was, I had to take it in just because there was never really something permanent to hold on to. I guess that's the real reason why I've always held back since - because I know there could nothing be permanent in all of these to hold on to, nothing really to claim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I just hoped that there was more honesty that filled the blanks and questions that bothered me. I just hoped, that if there were any feelings at all, it would have been expressed and understood. Right timing was really an issue here, communication was, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I guess there'd been too many shortcomings on my part that led to the uncertainty which led to what now really is - nothing at all. I guess both of us failed to do our part to meet halfway. So now, here I am, still a friend of yours understanding you, the difference this time, is that I'm a distant one. I assure you, I'm not letting go of the 'us' - the 'us' that was, is the 'us' that still is, because it never really changed, the 'us' that has always been - two friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-2113146000751713037?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2113146000751713037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/stuck-in-reverse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/2113146000751713037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/2113146000751713037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/stuck-in-reverse.html' title='Stuck in reverse'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-6621706765318557199</id><published>2010-12-20T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T01:24:18.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because a song won't tell it all.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;in the unexpected intersection of worlds,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;though happens rare,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;feeling it loud as words&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;had sufferings not been enough&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;and all things rough&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;had you been with me,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;we'd both be tough&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;i can tell in your eyes&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;windows of no lies&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;the thought of 'us'&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;would be more than nice&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;why hold back&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;to the mutual affection&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;hoping, dreaming,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;wandering in all directions&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;you're my finality&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;so when you're weary,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;here for you sincerely,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;i'd be your one and only&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;(based on a song by Up Dharma Down)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=464233326597&amp;amp;comments"&gt;On Facebook&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-6621706765318557199?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6621706765318557199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-song-wont-tell-it-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/6621706765318557199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/6621706765318557199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-song-wont-tell-it-all.html' title='Because a song won&apos;t tell it all.'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-4566318947528500801</id><published>2010-11-01T08:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T08:54:32.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty will Conquer AS in UP Diliman</title><content type='html'>&lt;object id="vp1h29i5" width="432" height="240" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/vp1&amp;e=1288626826&amp;f=h29i5oBue5bb62GcjE1cxA&amp;d=34&amp;m=b&amp;r=w&amp;i=m&amp;options="&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed id="vp1h29i5" src="http://static.animoto.com/swf/w.swf?w=swf/vp1&amp;e=1288626826&amp;f=h29i5oBue5bb62GcjE1cxA&amp;d=34&amp;m=b&amp;r=w&amp;i=m&amp;options=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="432" height="240"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;Create your own &lt;a href="http://animoto.com"&gt;video slideshow&lt;/a&gt; at animoto.com.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-4566318947528500801?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4566318947528500801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/beauty-will-conquer-as-in-up-diliman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/4566318947528500801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/4566318947528500801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/beauty-will-conquer-as-in-up-diliman.html' title='Beauty will Conquer AS in UP Diliman'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-5388195491210283118</id><published>2010-10-25T02:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T03:20:59.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hour of Need</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Another semester is over. Am I happy? Am I satisfied? I am the kind of person who would at any point in time simply smile and thank the skies for whatever is in my life. Whether it is misfortune or blessings – I look at the brighter side of things and tell my self, “This is here for good reasons. Live with it. Make the most out of it.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Every single day, as the person that I am, I would just sing my lungs out, or dance the night away, just to erase all the problems, all the stress away for a while. I would tell myself I should be really thankful for the friends for being able to crack jokes and make me laugh so hard, for the fellow student council members who are there working so hard with me to fulfill the goals we’ve set for ourselves, for the family who’d give me guidance and home.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Every song I hear, I would jump for joy thinking of the real good things in life. I’d think of hugs and kisses, of fun and laughter, of wisdom and learning, of hope and ambition – the good in the past and present, and the hopeful in the future.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;But for the good things, there are sacrifices I make every day. By simply going to school I have to spend a lot and the commute is an exhausting one to one hour and a half. By trying to achieve my best in my academics and my council work, I barely sleep. By trying to give time for my friends and family, I keep myself awake and seemingly happy each minute I spend with them. For the good things in life – hugs and kisses, fun and laughter etc., I am pressed in time. I barely have any time for myself. I barely give myself attention.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;It is nonetheless, settling for me to see my loved ones okay and happy. That gives me more hope to give the next day another push.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I run after so many things, and I run against the clock. I run after academic excellence, happiness with friends, performance in the student council, quality time with family and contributions in the household. And like every runner in the world, there comes a time when you just can’t take it any more, when you just have to take a break and breathe.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;When you think you deserve a break, sometimes you have to think again. Sometimes, when you think you’ve gotten what you’ve been chasing, you’d feel it simply fading away. There are times when you think you’ve exhausted all of yourself, pushed and pushed your way to where you wanted to get, just to see that you’re still stuck in the same old place you were like you didn’t even try.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-top-alt:auto;mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Nobody said it was easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-5388195491210283118?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5388195491210283118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/hour-of-need.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/5388195491210283118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/5388195491210283118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/hour-of-need.html' title='Hour of Need'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-4324377472581227391</id><published>2010-06-05T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T01:20:56.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If it's Love (Train) or Just Another Crush?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "  &gt;A friend of mine posted this song in Facebook and I really like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;I think this friend of mine is happily in love, because this is a happy song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;And I'm happy for him. The Chorus goes like:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;"If it's love&lt;br /&gt;And we decide that it's forever&lt;br /&gt;No one else could do it better&lt;br /&gt;If it's love&lt;br /&gt;And we're two birds of a feather&lt;br /&gt;Then the rest is just whenever&lt;br /&gt;And if I'm addicted to loving you&lt;br /&gt;And you're addicted to my love too"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;But to me, this remains to be just a dream. There is no one person I could actually tell that to. Lonely huh. Perhaps. But loneliness isn't always a problem. Most of the time, it's just a mere fact a person has to face. A fact that will exist only until one's truly special person comes to his life. A time when one could tell me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;"You can move in&lt;br /&gt;I won't ask where you've been&lt;br /&gt;'cause everybody has a past&lt;br /&gt;When we're older&lt;br /&gt;We'll do it all over again"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "  &gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;True enough; everybody has a past. But not so long ago, that 'past' used to be the present.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;That is where I am right now - a 'now' waiting to be a 'then'. But when?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;"If it's love&lt;br /&gt;And we're two birds of a feather&lt;br /&gt;Then the rest is just whenever&lt;br /&gt;Then the rest is just whenever"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iR2TIzM5PaQ"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;click here to listen to the song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-4324377472581227391?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4324377472581227391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-its-love-train-or-just-another-crush.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/4324377472581227391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/4324377472581227391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/if-its-love-train-or-just-another-crush.html' title='If it&apos;s Love (Train) or Just Another Crush?'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-7768111394714013899</id><published>2009-12-31T05:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T06:00:45.031-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Year's Eve Sentiment</title><content type='html'>a year has passed and all that pain's gone, but the memory of it stays - but not as pain, not anymore, rather, as a lesson - a lasting mark that inspires a new brand of loving - one that is more decisive yet careful, more reasonable but passionate, above all, one that's clearer, truer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-7768111394714013899?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7768111394714013899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-eve-sentiment_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/7768111394714013899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/7768111394714013899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-eve-sentiment_31.html' title='A New Year&apos;s Eve Sentiment'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-1938806916877379229</id><published>2009-12-27T03:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T03:28:22.928-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My dear Christmas Wish</title><content type='html'>To my dear Christmas wish,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to be honest, my Christmas was cold...it was dry,&lt;br /&gt;my family kept me warm but what kept me warm more was the very thought of you. The thought that maybe some day, we will be okay - better than how we were before the vacation, better than how you treated me after I've told you I like you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are such a very complicated person, someone who would be very hard to read. How can I read you when you're a shut book? How can I tell myself there is absolutely nothing behind your big cover, if I haven't been able to bring it down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping though, that once the truth comes out, and it will, that you will be happy, maybe not happy with me, but let me be there, let me be there for you.&lt;br /&gt;But insofar as the present is concerned? One thing I'm sure of - that's I want you by my side, make my winter warm, make my days brighter, bring my true smile back - only you could do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are indeed reading this, then I'd be glad to consider myself lucky. Lucky basically because we haven't exactly been best of friends the past weeks but at least now you know what my heart's been saying. It was not at all easy to tell that you are my Christmas wish...as a cliche goes, "all I want for Christmas is YOU", well that's not true...'cause all I want for Christmas is us.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love love.&lt;br /&gt;JE M Miguel Eva VIII&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-1938806916877379229?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1938806916877379229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-dear-christmas-wish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/1938806916877379229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/1938806916877379229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-dear-christmas-wish.html' title='My dear Christmas Wish'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-1260362063836689536</id><published>2009-12-13T02:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T01:21:36.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love/Lust/Infatuation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;these are some things about how to differentiate love from lust and from infatuation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;- Love is when you love the whole person (spirit, heart, mind and body), lust is when you only love part of them, which means that you see only part of the person as having value and that the whole person is not valuable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Keep in mind that in most relationships, you're feeling all three (love, infatuation, and lust) all at once, to some degree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Remember that jealousy is not a result of love. It is more likely to be a result of infatuation, insecurity or fear of being alone. Are you in love with being in relationships?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Give it some time. Love takes root slowly and grows with time. Infatuation grows into full bloom almost immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Keep in mind that "True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be and will not be." (Unknown)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-If you're not sure about your feelings or your relationship, take things slowly, introspect. Spend time apart and see how you are feeling while you are away. Do you miss the person? Or are you more attracted to others when you are apart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lust only cares for itself (self love). Lust always focuses on an object to fulfill its desire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lust is part of the material world attempting to satisfy one of the five senses. Lust's sole aim is to satisfy the flesh. Love transcends the material world and is solely focused on spiritual things. Love's sole motive is to bestow affection and compassion upon people and God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know exactly why I reposted this note from a friend, but I think it's worth the effort reading. But maybe, just maybe, I want to take hold of this because sometimes, when I feel some thing/s towards some person/s, I just don't know how to put it, and how to do about it in time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a lesson to me to know something before taking it seriously. I hope this lesson serves me well, because I am about to feel love/lust/infatuation for someone I'm certain I want being part of my life - I just don't know how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;sources:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Know-the-Difference-Between-Love,-Infatuation-and-Lust" target="_blank" rel="nofollow" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this),"&gt;&lt;span&gt;http://www.wikihow.com/Kno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;w-the-Difference-Between-L&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ove,-Infatuation-and-Lust&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;              &lt;a href="http://www.access-jesus.com/difference-between-love-and-lust.html" target="_blank" rel="nofollow" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this),"&gt;&lt;span&gt;http://www.access-jesus.co&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;m/difference-between-love-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and-lust.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-1260362063836689536?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1260362063836689536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/lovelustinfatuation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/1260362063836689536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/1260362063836689536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/lovelustinfatuation.html' title='Love/Lust/Infatuation'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-2468324774588191630</id><published>2009-11-30T07:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T07:38:02.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night Soup</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I don't know what to do this late, (almost midnight) so I start typing stuff on a blog of mine that no one reads. I'm at our village clubhouse trying to make the most out of the free wi-fi (though technically, it's not free since were paying the dues) and at a time like this, and where I'm seated, there's a lot of mosquitoes flying around and biting me. I just hope I won't get sick one of these days...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well you know what they say, more people get sick in third world countries. But then, I'd like to believe that just because we're in the topics doesn't mean were somehow 'condemned' to be poorer, sicker and less smart. I don't believe in Environmental Determinism. I think if there's a way to  &lt;/span&gt;break the determinism, that's to be determined in doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well so much for humanity, and Oprah-ish advices, let me tell you something that makes me real mad... There's this 'JBA' I met in school last month, and she's very cute. I like her very much and I'm very lucky we're classmates on Tuesdays and Thursdays. JBA's in a relationship with someone I don't know much but we're friends...Facebook friends. Well anyways, I don't think it's a sin to hang out with JBA right? Or a little more than that? It won't hurt anyone and I won't steal JBA, I promise. :)&lt;br /&gt;But in all these, what makes me a bit mad is the fact that there's this other friend of mine, Louie, and he wants to do the same! This is a duel. It's a match. (well seriously though, there are a lot of other 'JBA's to choose from, haha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's time to retire. Gotta go to Climatology class tomorrow at ten. Bed, here I come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-2468324774588191630?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2468324774588191630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/late-night-soup_30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/2468324774588191630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/2468324774588191630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/late-night-soup_30.html' title='Late Night Soup'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-5897294358643125608</id><published>2009-11-30T07:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T07:41:06.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The class that could freak you out</title><content type='html'>research about Australian Rappelling. that's what we do Tuesdays and Thursdays. :|&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-5897294358643125608?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5897294358643125608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/late-night-soup.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/5897294358643125608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/5897294358643125608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/late-night-soup.html' title='The class that could freak you out'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-7291928227710658827</id><published>2009-11-03T06:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T09:35:17.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Odd Loves</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CWINDOWS%5CTEMP%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face  {font-family:Consolas;  panose-1:2 11 6 9 2 2 4 3 2 4;  mso-font-charset:0;  mso-generic-font-family:modern;  mso-font-pitch:fixed;  mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750091 0 0 159 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal  {mso-style-parent:"";  margin:0in;  margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:12.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1  {size:8.5in 11.0in;  margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;  mso-header-margin:.5in;  mso-footer-margin:.5in;  mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1  {page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Consolas;font-size:10;"&gt;“Five Odd Loves”, a story about five typical and sometimes not-typical-at-all college students and their bitter, hurt, empty, or confused hearts, is here not to be read as something apart from you but to somehow shed light into YOUR OWN EXPERIENCES and what you may be going through, or about to go through in the future---“&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A group of five college students were drinking in Cantina, a restobar just outside their university. While drinking, they reminisce about what had happened, and if any, in their past semester. It’s different this semester ‘cause all of them are new transferees, from another university outside the metro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; the five of them love like crazy. Maybe it’s because they’re in college, since they’re adolescents, or maybe, just maybe, these young boys and girls are just plain crazy people who know how to feel&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Diane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start off with a girl. Let's call her Diane – she’s a tigress. For months, she has been missing her ex-girlfriend. YES. she did have a homosexual relationship. It has been like that since the transfer, because her ex was left back at the old school. This was very hard for Diane 'coz she thinks about her all the time and about how they would have been if they were still together. ‘Cause their literal separation led to this rather figurative separation. She does love her still and been missing her the entire semester. Even to the point of shedding tears and well, drinking booze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Jane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Diane had a girlfriend, this other girl, Jane, wishes she was one. There's this guy she's been into for almost a year now - the bad thing, Jane's guy was also left back at the old school. This 'thing' started out as a crush, then later on she found out that he has a crush on her too... So the 'thing' goes by without growing into a...relationship, which makes Jane really bitter about it, but events of the past few days make her look forward to some other 'thing' today....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Lex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Jane is looking forward to something new, Lex is looking behind at a past relationship. He and his boyfriend broke up a few weeks ago. they have been together for more than a year..so it makes the break-up even worse. Lex and his ex (oh, rhyming! haha) used to live in the same house, in the same room, back at their old school. The relationship started out with the guy courting Lex, practically begging him to be his boyfriend... Lex used to close his doors to things like that but with the guy’s persistence and effort, they later had a relationship. But now that it is over, all of that shatters Lex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Migz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;When it comes to love, is it worse to be experiencing something that’s really messed up, or experience nothing at all? What’s hard for Migz is that he has had flings and relationships back in their past school but had stopped like he’s gotten a dry spell. Migz has liked many persons the past semester but like I said, nothing ever really happened. Not one of those petty crushes or hook-ups ever blossomed into something anything more meaningful than what they just are – feelings that don’t grow.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Haley&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;If there was someone in the group who’d want to get drunk the most, it would be Haley. It’s her first time feeling something reeeaally special for someone. And you know what they say; every ‘first time’ is important…and special too. That’s pro’lly the reason why she wants to get drunk and all. Lately she’s been falling apart, ‘cause she has now lost part of what’s kept her together for the semester – the special thing she feels for a certain Katy. But she’s still hoping that all that special feelings she has felt wouldn’t go to waste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Diane, Jane, Lex, Migz and Haley may be going through hard times lately, and that is precisely why they’re all at one table and in one short story...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Not true. Why they are all sitting around the same table, why they’re sharing drinks and telling stories, why they’re all in this very blog – what brought them together in an experience of self expression – is not about the pain, rather it’s about something more meaningful. This blog, that experience,… THIS, IS ABOUT THEM. This is about the five crazy college students who call each other ‘friends’. The rationale of looking at pain is not for merely acknowledging the pain, the reason behind it is beyond that – it is to face the facts that first, there is pain, secondly and more importantly, there are people to get you through the pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;"&gt;--- A cliché may say that it’s the scars make a person tougher and more beautiful in the end, but I’d rather believe that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;"&gt;it’s not the scars that make one tougher or more beautiful; it’s the process of learning from it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:78%;"&gt; by Mickey Eva VIII&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-7291928227710658827?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7291928227710658827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/interesting-love-lives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/7291928227710658827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/7291928227710658827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/interesting-love-lives.html' title='Five Odd Loves'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8180921111983409486.post-4169064432048869471</id><published>2009-11-02T09:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T10:00:41.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Entry 1 : Dahon.</title><content type='html'>A told a friend of mine I'd be making a new blog. I've told myself I should write about things less serious than I usually do at http://mickeyeva.blogspot.com, so here's my very first entry.&lt;br /&gt;That friend of mine told me to write something about...well, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dahon&lt;/span&gt;. Well let's start with some dramatic introduction. :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have you ever touched or observed a leaf?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't, then that sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have, then you're lucky...coz you'd be able to relate to an experience of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in Grade School I loved Science. It did not love me back though. but that school of thought is not important here. so moving on... back to the leaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaves are usually green in color and average in size (cause if its not the average size, then its not the average leaf. ) Most leaves don't really smell good. But Pine trees do. (is it the leaves though? that make it smell good? well I don't know...) I miss Baguio, the scent of Pine trees and the crisp air. hmm, I'd love to visit that place...wait. back to the leaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaves come in all shapes, some are long and narrow, some are round and wide. I think the shapes are the way they are because they have to adjust to some factors. but one shape is real cute - the heart shape. Heart shaped leaves are common huh? Don't even start with love 'cause love is one truly complicated thing and so are...LEAVES. back to the leaf, Mickey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaves have veins too, the pattern is just awesome. and you don't have to be real stoned to appreciate that. (but you'd get to appreciate some kind of leaf that gets you real stoned. haha) That pattern is called "Dendritic" - a pattern not just seen in leaves, but in branches, rivers, nerves, tissues and many others as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nature is wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gives us something to study about (like my grade school science)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It blesses our world with beauty...in places and things we see and experience (like my Baguio experience)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But above all, we should thank nature for giving us LIFE. Life in the sense that we breathe, eat and drink and LIFE in the lives of others - that our love for them gives meaning to our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, that one simple &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LEAF&lt;/span&gt; reminds the young simple boy in me, that the vast realm of nature in all its forms gave us, the entire humanity, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;knowledge, beauty, love &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8180921111983409486-4169064432048869471?l=sabawblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4169064432048869471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-entry-1-dahon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/4169064432048869471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8180921111983409486/posts/default/4169064432048869471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sabawblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-entry-1-dahon.html' title='Blog Entry 1 : Dahon.'/><author><name>Jose Emmanuel Micael M. Eva VIII</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15930243972423515175</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JBVeiyUPB6A/SsYiiVkWueI/AAAAAAAAAAM/naZ98KMBN_g/S220/mickey.temp..jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
